


Piss Poor Bet

by Lord_of_Spirits_and_Bazongas



Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: F/F, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 19:19:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14385396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lord_of_Spirits_and_Bazongas/pseuds/Lord_of_Spirits_and_Bazongas
Summary: Losing a bet to Magilou could never be a sign of anything good.





	Piss Poor Bet

It had sounded impossible on paper, when Magilou had dared Velvet. After all, she was a tough woman in more ways than one, so when the witch had proclaimed that it’d take her less than a minute to take her to heaven and back, Velvet had been doubtful to say the least, despite having first hand experience of just what she was capable. Perhaps deep down she had known that such feat was indeed possible, but that cocky smirk always drove her mad. She didn’t even have to say a word, as Velvet could read it all from just looking at her face and especially that shit eating grin of hers. Velvet hated losing, yet here she was, panting in her bed, hoping that her legs would stop shaking, but somehow she was limp as overcooked noodle, with the witch so proudly sitting on top of her chest, licking her fingers clean.  
  
“You might not be a full feathered dove, but at least you can really coo like one,” Magilou smirked all too happily, cleaning her digits one by one while eyeing the still panting Velvet.  
  
Velvet wanted to say few selected words to the witch, but her body was betraying her. She was a veteran of hundreds of battles, yet somehow it only took Magilou less than a minute to get her in a state where her legs simply wouldn’t follow her orders. For now, she could only pant, her exposed chest rising up and down as she caught her breath and put together her thoughts.  
  
Of course someone like Magilou wouldn’t leave a golden opportunity like this unclaimed. It was already hard enough for her to climb on top of the mountain that was Velvet Crowe, but to do that and leave her of all people speechless was truly once in a lifetime occurrence. Licking her lips clean from the same mess that was still dripping from her fingertips, Magilou leaned in closer to Velvet, up until the tip of their noses were touching. “Well then… despite your obviously amazing orgasm, I hope that your short term memory is still working. In case you forgot, let me give you a quick recap: We had a dare and yours truly won. We never did specify what the winner got though…” Magilou pondered out loud, gently tapping her chin.  
  
If Velvet would have had the energy, she would have either smacked herself for being so careless, or simply choke the scrawny woman on top of her. The problem with the latter was that someone like Magilou would only get a rise out of that as well, so for now Velvet simply let Magilou continue with her monologue, as she remained mostly still to gather her strength.  
  
“Well, I know that you’re pretty tired, so I won’t ask for too much… just a tiny little thing really…” Magilou cooed, leaning in even closer to Velvet until she was practically whispering right into her ear. “Piss on me.”  
  
It took Velvet a moment to register just what Magilou had said. Shaking her head, she looked at her like a cat that just realized that the family could also use a dog as well. Confused to say the least, she opened up her mouth to finally speak her mind: “Wait… you can’t be serious.”  
  
Magilou had the unique talent of being a woman that nobody took seriously, until she wanted them to. Mere moments ago she had been all smirks, but now she had that truly elusive serious look on her face. This was the part where Velvet expected her to play a prank on her, snort at the fact that she had been able to prank the Lord of Calamity of all people once more, yet there was no snort, no chuckle, nothing. “… You… You’re actually being serious…?”  
  
The witch was quick to nod. “Oh but I always am, except when I’m not. Seriously, how hard is it for you people to tell when I’m being serious and when I’m not? It’s like night and day!”  
  
Velvet wanted to argue with that line of reasoning, but she knew better not to get into that discussion. Besides, it was hard for her to think about that, when Magilou’s proposed claim was stuck in her head like a bad sailor song sang at the tavern. “This is just too much even by your standards…”  
  
“Hah!” Magilou chuckled, her usual trademark smirk reappearing once again. “As if I had any. But a bet is a bet, and you, my little daemonic mess owe me one, so pull down your… oh wait, too late for that,” Magilou snickered, remembering that Velvet’s torn trouser jeans were already down in her ankles by now. “And give me some.”  
  
Velvet had seen this truly peculiar woman drink down all sorts of things, from Sale’tomah, to booze, to Velvet’s own juices to even her blood, yet somehow what she now wanted was seemingly too much, even for her. “Are you… actually serious about this?”  
  
With a frustrated sigh, Magilou grabbed Velvet by her torn attire and rolled around in her bed so that she’d now be the one feeling just how warm and messy Velvet’s bedsheets were. “How many times do I have to say this? Yes!”  
  
Velvet tried to read Magilou’s expression. Despite her best wishes for her to burst laughing anytime soon, that never happened. She hated to admit it, but she knew that for once, the witch was genuinely being serious. “I can’t believe I’m doing this…”  
  
“Well neither do I, yet here we are,” Magilou claimed all too cheerfully, her mouth already hanging open for Velvet to try and aim. With a weary sigh, Velvet climbed her way on top of her and positioned herself accordingly before tugging Magilou by her hair to keep her still.  
  
Just why Velvet was okay with all of this was something that went even over her own head. Perhaps she was simply too exhausted to think straight, too tired to put up a fight, or was it perhaps because somehow the wicked witch got her kicks from something like this? It was a question she both wished to get an answer, but wanted it to remain a mystery at the same time. So peculiar was the situation that it took Velvet awhile to realize just what she doing, let alone where she was doing it.  
  
“My bed!” She shouted, as the warm stream was already flowing down onto Magilou’s face and her eagerly open mouth. Either Magilou herself didn’t care, or she did but didn’t bother reminding Velvet of that little detail, as she seemed  to be in her own little, be it rather wet, slice of heaven. The stream had been short lived, but it was all the more delicious as a result of that.  
  
“Oh yeah… whoops,” Magilou shrugged, her usual grin now growing in size with every passing moment as she saw Velvet go through the stages of grief and denial in matter of seconds.  
  
“You… little… shit…” Velvet grunted, tugging Magilou by her hair before throwing her out of her bed. As a follow up, she grabbed the now truly wet bedsheets as well, and threw them on top of Magilou before she’d have a chance to get back up. “They will be washed by tomorrow. And if anyone asks, they belong to you, and you wet them in your sleep, understood?”  
  
Magilou peaked her head from underneath the sheets. “Do you really think that others believe my bedsheets have pictures of black tigers on them?”  
  
“Just go!”  
  
With the fresh scent reminding Magilou of just what she had gotten the privilege of experiencing, Magilou did just that, but not before giving Velvet one last unceremonious bow.   
  
Sleeping without sheets wasn’t the hard part for Velvet, but the loss of dignity is what truly made her shiver.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for ultrajacket (http://ultrajacket.tumblr.com/) for her birthday (and graduation gift).
> 
> You can also find me at tumblr http://lordofspiritsandbazongas.tumblr.com/ If you have ideas, suggestions, feedback, comment, anything like that, feel free to contact me.


End file.
